The Term is Over and the Grades are in; How Did I Do?

With my first term at University complete and my grades in,I'm reflecting on the results of my efforts.
It was quite a learning curve first re-locating, then learning both the physical and academic layouts of my new University. I did quite well this term; earning a 3.7 GPA. This is my personal best. I've always  struggled with school, so to receive good grades for my work feels great. It's a message that I can do it; I have what it takes to make it at a University, and so do you!  I learned a lot, I met a lot of interesting people and I feel like I've done a lot both academically and socially.

Looking back, I should have enrolled in University a long time ago. I don't want to make this a community college VS university argument, because they both have their positive's and negative's. However, from my own experiences I really wished I would have went to a University straight out of high school. Although I gained life experiences that I would have never received at a University. Simply put, the academic, social and vocational opportunities are much, much better at a University. Like many things, you do get what you pay for when it comes to higher education. Now, can you over-pay for a college education? Absolutely, however cutting corners and picking the least expensive option is not always the best. I advise aiming for the middle of the cost spectrum when exploring higher education options.   Community college is a great start; it allows a person to get a solid academic experience without investing a lot of money or time in a higher education option. Unfortunately community colleges often lack the social, vocational and internship opportunities often recommended for many majors. From my experiences, if you are unsure if higher education is the right thing to do, enroll at your local community college for a term. Get your feet wet, learn how academics at the collegiate level work. If you are happy with what you see apply to the university of your choice and go for it!

I joined my University's marching band as a crash cymbal player. Having this outlet allowed me to meet people and to take a break from studying to do something I personally enjoy. There is talk of the University drum line doing some post season performances in the community. I of course am going to participate. As for next year? I'm hoping to move up in the ranks of the drum line. My goal is to master enough music by next fall to land a position playing the snare or tenner drums. When I say "master," I mean memorize the required parts. It will take some work, but hopefully it will pay off. I've put a lot of thought into this goal. I have experience playing both of these drums and these instruments are the most enjoyable to play I think. I will keep practicing, refining my technique and learning songs for next year. I'm also going to try and find another musical group to play in this winter. I really appreciate the camaraderie  and sound that comes from a group of musicians all working together to produce one full bodied sound.

I think the coolest thing about going to University is the simple fact that I'm truly a person who just so happens to be visually impaired. I'm learning, socializing and playing music alongside my sighted peers, and I'm loving it. I'm doing what I grew up doing, and thats living life in a sighted world, alongside sighted people. I have my own set of accommodations but I have them so I can do what everybody else is doing, not to promote the message of "hey, look at me, I'm blind." Nope I'm me and I'm doing what everybody else is doing, oh yeah and I guess I can't see physically, that is. But who cares! I'm doing what I want to do, I'm doing it with everybody else and for the most part I'm enjoying it, even if I have to work a little harder. I've got my own program that I created and I'm in charge of. That, is a beautiful thing.

To sum this all up, risking it all and taking a leap of faith in an attempt to reach my higher education goals was a great decision. It was a very hard and risky decision but in the end it was worth it. I'm doing great at University!
The moral of the story?
If you want something, even if the idea seems far fetched and the effort required to reach what you want is massive, go for it! Why wouldn't you? Those who take a calculated risk and work hard are often rewarded for their efforts. It is foolish to do the same thing and expect different results. So with the new year approaching, think about what you have been wanting to accomplish. Think about it, then go do it!

Happy Holidays!! 

Playing Through the Pain: what being part of a team means to me

Many of us have heard that saying "play through the pain." Most of the time this quote refers to athletes and sports teams, however it applies to most of us, including musicians.  

At last weekend's marching band performances I found myself facing a decision that nobody wants to face: 

"I don't feel good; should I go, or stay in bed?"

Personally this is always a tough question to answer because I'm not a quitter and because I don't like being sick. I also do not enjoy imposing hardships on other people do to my inability to perform. 

The night before the performance I had dinner with friends, and we had a great time. I went home, and went to sleep. When I awoke however I could hardly stand and my body was ridding itself of anything that had to do with food or drink (I'll spare you the details).  Turns out I had food poisoning, and if you've ever had it, you know that there's nothing you can do until every bit of food is gone from your body. 

I laid in bed weighing my options as the sun came up and marching band call time approached. The entire band had been working tirelessly on this week's half time show. My crash cymbal partner and I worked to memorize our parts, which were different from each other, meaning that if I didn't show up my partner would have to play their part alone or attempt to cover two cymbal parts designed for two players. However, I was sick, that was obvious; what to do… I laid in bed for a while longer trying to weigh my options, and then it came to me. The music building is located roughly one half, to three quarters of a mile from my home. If I could walk this distance (it's up hill) and make it to the music building I would play. If I was too weak to walk that far I would turn around and call in sick. 

So, with no food/water in my body I set off with my guide dog toward the music building. It was hard, but 20 minutes later I found myself standing upright at the entrance of the music building. One small success. I left Angelina with  the dog-sitter, slowly changed into my band uniform and fetched my crash cymbals. 

It felt good to be standing outside in the fresh air waiting to march. The band began our usual warm-ups and as I crashed the cymbals I realized that these six-eight pound plates of brass felt like 16-18 pounds of brass today.  

I managed to play starving and weak the entire pre-game show as well as the entire football game. I don't know what kept me going. I believe it was my shear willpower, my can-do attitude and my refusal to not let my team down. There was something about the driving, ear piercing, head  splitting, rumble of the drum line, and the high energy emulating from the rest of the marching band. It was an all day struggle, as I worked overtime it seemed counting  measures, remembering  crash cymbal parts, staying  in formation and all of the other tasks associated with marching in the band non visually. Still I found myself with just enough energy to get by and I even managed to crack a smile a few times. I love music, love performing and love marching band, and I think this little narrative proves that. 

The moral of the story? Sometimes it is imperative to play through the pain; your team is counting on you. No matter how sick one feels or how bad something hurts I believe the best medicine is to do your best, participate as much as possible considering the circumstances and support your team. Looking back I would have felt worse laying in bed all day thinking of the marching band, thinking of the drum line as they accommodated themselves for my absence and thinking of my crash cymbal partner and the effort they would have to extend in order to pull off a great performance. It just goes to show that every person on a team or in a band has an important part; no matter how much playing time you get, or no matter how large or small your musical instrument is. The collective group is always best when everybody is there. 

Culture of the Drum Line

After the first performance, the marching band had two weeks to rehearse new music for our upcoming homecoming show. This gave me time to fine tune my systems and workaround's. I also used the time to explore the culture of my university's drum line, verbally, mentally and physically.  

I mentioned in a previous blog post that I faced a lot of opposition, resistance and unnecessary competition from fellow drummers in high school. I asked myself "was playing on a college drum line going to be like high school all over again?" How would the other drummers view me? (a guy who just happens to be visually impaired) I thought of the 2002 film Drum Line and the fierce  competition between drummers and drum lines. I know Hollywood has a way of blowing things way out of proportion but I had to learn how I would fit into this new group of people. Granted, I don't go to Texas A and M and I don't play on their drum line, so I had that going for me. 

I decided to take a natural approach; just being myself. Between this mentality and the friendly nature of myself and my guide dog I found that the members of the drum line were quite accepting. I think it took people a few days to realize that the "guy with the cool dog," was joining up and playing on the line. Many of the other drummers respected me as a person and had no problem saying things like " welcome aboard," or "glad you are part of the line."  Naturally we are all competitive at some level and I'm sure if I had challenged the section leader to a drum-off  I would be writing this post from a much different perspective. 

I found myself challenged by the music and the required parts. (this is a good thing) I count measures to keep track of where I am in the musical piece. I also memorize my part based on the sound of the music and the knowledge of the composition.  Here's a snapshot of what it's like to learn a new song or cadence: 

My newly made crash cymbal partner  and I team up and learn the music together. They read the sheet music to me as we practice it in sections. "count to measure 12; crash on measure 12 beat 1; crash on measure 14 beat 1; crash on measure 16 beat 2; measures 23-29 crash on beats 2 and 4; at measure 30 crash on the and of beat 3."  Just so you know, this is the first section of crash cymbal music for Elton John's Funeral for a Friend. Now, do I memorize to this detail on every song all of the time? No, because if I did my head would explode! I do, however pay attention to how the other drums as well as the horn section sound while practicing. At first I count and memorize and then I combine that knowledge with what the music sounds like. Then,   I am effectively able to play my part. Add in all of the auditory cues that I employ to help me get around while marching in the band and you've got a pretty good description of the mental stamina it takes to play in a marching band non visually. 

It is fact, it takes a good deal  of physical strength to play any instrument in a marching band. You must be able to play your chosen instrument for long periods of time, while standing or marching and in all weather. Yes, even in the poring down rain. After playing the crash cymbals for half a day at the first football game I realized that I was a bit out of shape (musically speaking). My arms and shoulders were stretched and muscles in my fingers that I didn't even know I had were sore. I play a set of 18-inch Sabian AAX cymbals. Each weighs roughly 6-8 pounds. It doesn't sound like much, but consider this: 

OUr fight song requires the cymbal player to crash on roughly 95 percent of the beats. I'm guessing our fight song is about 20 measures long, which we play twice with a short drum cadence in the middle. and it's played at roughly 170 beats per minute (pretty fast)  If we do the math 95 percent of 20 = 19 measures, times 4 beats per measure = 76 beats, but wait, we play it twice so actually a cymbal player crashes the cymbals  152 times, just for the fight song.  

My point here is it takes a lot of physical strength to get through a day of marching. Still, I wouldn't have it any other way. 

To sum up the culture of the drum line: 

We are a group of hard working, strong , passionate musicians who just like to play music, and as long as everybody works hard to play their part that is all the group asks. 

My First Performance with the marching band: pushing my blindness aside and going for it

I joined the drum line as a practicing percussionist with a  week before the first marching band performance of the season. Between classes and homework I managed to  learn the required crash cymbal parts for the half time show (the first performance of the band). Five days before our first performance the band director came up to me and asked if I thought I could play in the half time show. Without hesitation I said "yes!" My exclamation must have been very convincing,  because he said okay great and walked away. Meanwhile inside my head I was trying to come up with solutions and work-around's for every part of the upcoming performance: 

• I knew I wouldn't be able to include my guide dog in the performance, mainly because of the noise among other things. So who would be willing to watch my guide dog? 
• How would I march in formation? 
• How would I know when to stop, start or turn with the band while marching? 
• How would I get on and off the football field without getting lost? 
• How would I know if I was lined up correctly on the field in front of 10000 spectators?
• How would I travel safely and independently during these activities?  

I'll stop here and explain why I immediately said "yes!" to the band director when I knew I had  a half a dozen questions that I needed to answer first. I have learned by experience that if a person with a disability, like myself shows any sign of hesitation or concern   the person they are talking to will most likely assume that there is a major problem and that maybe it would be best if the person with the disability doesn't do this particular part. I knew that if I didn't give my band director a confident response of "yes!" it would be very likely that he would have suggested I only play with the band during timeouts while positioned stationary in the bleachers. That is not who I am and that's not why I joined a university marching band. I have always worked hard to do what everybody else is doing, and performing in the marching band is no exception. 

So to answer the above mentioned questions: 

I knew I wouldn't be able to include my guide dog in the performance, mainly because of the noise among other things. So who would be willing to watch my guide dog?

This was the first and most important question I had to answer. A guide dog and handler are a team, and both parties look after each other. I knew if I couldn't safely, confidently and effectively find a suitable place for my dog, Angelina to be during performances as well as practices  I simply would not be playing in the marching band until I found such a place/person. I needed my guide dog to help me get to the music building, so I couldn't leave her at home. A good acquaintance  of mine lives near the university. They are well aware of the specific training and needs of a guide dog. We worked it out so we would meet before the performance and they would dog-sit Angelina while I used my white cane to get around. Afterward we would meet up and Angelina and I would go home. It is a little challenging for some guide dogs, including Angelina to randomly be separated from their handler, because a guide dog and handler are together 24/7. It's best to introduce the guide dog to the person who will be dog-sitting before hand. Let your dog-sitter take your guide dog on a little walk. This gives the dog a chance to get to know the person who will be watching them. 

During marching band practice, which is held three times a week Angelina hangs out in the music department office. She would of course rather be with me, but at least the sound of  17 drummers practicing won't damage her eardrums. 

How would I march in formation?

Let me just start by saying that in order to march in a marching band non visually you must be a little fearless, a little crazy and a little smart about the whole thing. Nothing is going to be perfect, but is anything perfect? I'm drawing off of knowledge that I gained from playing in the marching band in high school, as well as my determination to participate in the marching band.  It is important to note that after reaching the music building and picking up my cymbals my white cane is of no use to me. I have no hands to hold it, no way to use it and nowhere to cary it on my person. From here on out I'm relying on members of the band and drum line to help me out as well as my own instincts and reflexes. When marching in formation I always try to be in the middle of the row, so I have people on each side of me to use as a reference. Often times I don't ask for verbal cues, because it's too loud and is not uniform with the rest of the band. Instead I localize the sound of the drums and cymbals beside me, in front of me and if necessary behind me. I have learned to track the sound projecting off the drums to either side of me. I aline myself with the percussionist in front of me to ensure I'm directly behind them. Again I'm localizing the sound of his or her drum. I'll admit, I'm not always perfectly in formation, but I'm usually within one or two steps to either side. Not bad; if you march in a band, try doing that with your eyes closed and see how good you are. 

How would I know when to stop, start or turn with the band while marching?

If the sound moves forward, I move forward. If the sound is directly on either side of me, we have stopped marching, and I too stop. If the sound begins to shift to the left or right, the band is turning left or right. Unfortunately this set of work-arounds works best if the drum line is playing a cadence or song. 

What do you do if the band is traveling? (walking silently from one place to another)

This takes yet more concentration and the use of my ears. I sometimes can hear the footsteps of the musicians around me, but more often than not I listen for the sound of creaking drum harnesses or the occasional rattling of a set of crash cymbals. nearby, and follow their sound. If I can't hear that I turn and ask somebody to please help me out. 

How would I get on and off the football field without getting lost?

During the final rehearsal before our first performance the marching band practiced our formations in the empty football stadium. I knew that getting on and off the field, as well as lining up correctly would require the assistance of a sighted person. Finding such a person wouldn't be hard; there were 149 band members to choose from. However, finding a person who was comfortable assisting me, and finding a person who was actually supposed to be standing next to me during the performance would limit my selection. It's also a delicate art asking for assistance in these situations, because you don't want to make the person you are asking feel obligated or responsible for two people. I want this person to understand that I'm like everybody else, I'm a contributing member to the marching band, but I need just a little bit of sighted assistance. I didn't have to search long before I asked a fellow crash  cymbal player standing next to me while in formation on the field. It quickly became apparent that we would make a good team. Unlike the rest of the band, crash cymbal players have no way to hold the sheet music while they play. The alternative? memorize! You may be thinking "crash cymbals, they sound good anywhere, and they must be so easy to play." Wrong! In order to play them correctly  you have to follow the sheet music or count measures because the whole point of crash cymbals is to emphasize a specific part of the music. Miss a climax (where the volume and intensity of the music increases to the highest point in the section) and you could embarrass yourself by creating a gigantic crash on the one, silent, downbeat of the song. I'm a master at memorizing and counting, so I could help the crash cymbal player next to me remember the part. In return they would assist me on and off the field by giving me verbal directions. 

How would I know if I was lined up correctly on the field in front of 10000 people?  

Fortunately I joined forces with the crash cymbal player who stands next to me in formation on the football field. I instructed this person to be brutally honest, "if I'm not in line, just say so!" I said at the final practice before the first performance. This person gives me simple verbal cues while we are lining up such as: 

"Take two steps to your right," or "Back up one step." When entering or leaving the stands this person simply gives me verbal cues about what's ahead like "two steps going up, then turn right and climb about twelve steps." Sighted guide is not an option; my hands are both occupied by the crash cymbals. 

How would I travel safely and independently during these activities?

There is a point where I have to set my need to be independent aside while playing in the marching band. The way I see it (no pun intended!) is the whole band sticks together while we are performing, so there's no need to travel alone. It takes a great deal of mental as well as physical strength to successfully play in the marching band non visually. I have to take calculated risks, and employ every physical and mental resource as well as rely on my sighted band members for assistance. To some, it sounds radical and maybe even foolish to give up the travel aids that help me safely navigate my world in an attempt to do an activity that does not accommodate the use of these travel aids. I wouldn't have it any other way. I love playing music and it's been a long standing goal to play in a university marching band. I would rather fall down a flight of steps, injuring myself and damaging my instrument, then sit at home wishing I could participate, bound by fear of that risk. 

As for the performance itself? It went off without a hitch and I felt completely natural, crashing away on the cymbals, playing my part. All of my systems, work-arounds and favors worked as I had intended them to, and to make things even better our football team won the game! 

A Quest to Join the University Marching Band

I know these first few posts are slightly outdated (by about 2 1/2 weeks), but I feel it's important background knowledge that will help me build on subsequent blog posts. I'll be sure to post quickly to catch up to the current day's adventures. 

It was a cool, late summer morning toward the end of orientation week at my university. Throughout the five days of orientation I met a lot of cool people, but one of those people would give me just enough momentum to set my long standing passion of playing the drums into motion. OUr orientation group had just finished the morning's activities and we were splitting up for the afternoon. I happened to be walking next to a guy who mentioned he had just completed marching band camp. Way cool I exclaimed. "I would love to join a college level drum line and play in the marching band." My acquaintance explained that the marching band was short about 50 members and were actively recruiting. He gave me the name of the band director and a room number in a building that I had never been to on campus, but that was enough to send me on my way. 

I set off in search of the music building to find the director. I discovered first that the music building is about a quarter mile from the rest of the buildings, at the south end of the campus. I also learned that the music, drama, art and communications departments are all housed in separate, but closely adjacent buildings. After spending 45 minutes walking around in circles  locating the correct building I found myself standing inside at an intersection of empty hallways. One would think that in the music department you would either encounter studying musicians, or hear music being played; I found neither. So I then picked a direction and began to look for the room number of the band instructor's office, only to find out that there were no number placards within reach of an outstretched hand; perhaps the room numbers are above the doors? I still don't know. So, with nobody around and no way to locate the correct office I paused my search, I didn't give up, but rather I would be bak tomorrow to try again. I repeated the above mentioned steps for two more days, but I still kept missing the band director. I did manage to locate his office and the main music department office; two very important places to know. Word of my interest in marching band seemed to spread because four days later I received  a phone call from the section leader of the drum line who enthusiastically  invited me to band practice. 

I set my first assignments of the term aside while I hastily began reviewing my drum rudiments. (these are specific patterns played on a drum that make up beats, cadences, and songs. Think of rudiments like letters; when put together they make words and sentences). I had no idea what, if anything  I would b expected to play. I once again entered the music building, not knowing where the drum line would be practicing (they move from room to room, or practice outside depending on space availability and the weather). I stopped at the same intersection of hallways and listened, and over the sounds of horns, pianos, marimbas and the chatter of students passing by I heard the drum line. The crack of a high tension snare drum, the thunderous boom of the bass drum, the crash of the cymbals and the high to low pitched tenner marching toms. I followed my ears to the commotion, which took me up a flight of stairs, down a hall way, turned Left, then right down another hall way and finally to an open door where the sound of drum line practice was rushing out like a river through the spillway of a dam. 

I listened for the remainder of the practice, observing the precision, the team work and the level each drummer was playing at. After practice I met with the section leader who told me "I don't have any more drums, but I need another crash cymbal player, are you interested? I didn't hesitate and immediately said yes. The section leader then asked me how I planned to read the sheet music. This was the question I had been dreading. I took a deep breath, made sure that I was standing up straight and confidently explained that I learn best using audio recordings and simply following the other drummers during practice, which allows me to build repetition and knowledge about the composition. Then I stopped, expecting to hear something like "oh… I'm not sure if this is going to work; we ask everybody to read sheet music." But, to my surprise the section leader did not say that, he didn't even miss a beat (no pun intended)!  He said "that makes sense, what's your email address? I'll send you the recordings of what we are working on." We were in business, or so I thought. The section leader then said "we are in the process of ordering new crash cymbals for the drum line, but they haven't come in yet, so just come to practice and do your best to follow along." This was not ideal, but i had just been given a spot on a college drum line! A 10-year-old goal of mine had just been put into motion.  

I showed up to band practice for about a week and spent the time listening and forming cymbal crashes with my hands in an attempt at learning my part. Let me tell you, it's a bit awkward     to be the only person on the drum line without a drum or cymbal in hand, but I hung tough. At the end of each practice I asked about the status of the recently ordered cymbals, no order canceled because of a bureaucracy  was going to ruin  my chance at playing on the drum line. Finally, at warm-ups for our first performance of the season, I found one set of crash cymbals left in the cymbal gig bag. The section leader had kept his word and brought a set of cymbals from his own collection so that everybody on the drum line now had a part to play. . I had cymbals in my hands, I was a part of a college drum line, the weather was great and the band was about to start our performance at the first football game of the season; life was great!  

The moral of the story? Starting something new is always a challenge and there is a certain amount of unknown involved. Keep at it long enough and you will either find something better to do or things will fall into place, but never, ever quit at something until you've given it your 150 percent! 

Passions Never Fail

I'm deviating from the story of re-locating and the adjustment to university life to share a long standing passion with you. It will help connect subsequent blog posts. 

My passion is playing the drums, and I've been playing for over a decade. Like many things in my life the experience of playing the drums, is much different than the average practicing musician. I first learned to play the drums at age 10 in the middle school band. My father used to tell me stories about his time playing "rat-tat-tat," on the drums in middle school. My parents embraced my new found interest in the drums and purchased a pare of drum sticks and a rubber practice  pad for me.  At school everybody else had shiny, new, chromed 175 dollar snare drums. Because my family believed in the notion of "if you want it, you will earn it,"  I showed up to band with a pare of drum sticks. My band director  found me an old, beet-up snare drum and let me borrow it. If I remember correctly the drum itself was missing quite a few parts including a stand for it to sit on, but I was optimistic , I had a drum to play and setting it on a charr would work for the meantime. 

Because of the fact that I was a kid who happened to be visually impaired I was unable to read printed sheet music. At first, learning was rough. I knew nothing about playing the drums and private lessons cost too much money. Fortunately the band director and my Braille teacher, who also worked at the school kept open minds. The first attempt at teaching me to play the drums consisted of a hand-over-hand technique. I would hold the drum sticks and my Braille teacher would stand behind me and put her hands on top of mine while she read the sheet music. The idea was that I would learn to memorize based on rhythm and motion of the drum sticks. Now, you may be asking yourself "isn't there Music Braille and wouldn't your Braille teacher suggest it to you?" The answer is yes, there is such a thing as music Braille and my Braille teacher and I had many conversations about implementing music Braille. The challenge was I would have to learn an entire new version of Braille designed specifically  for music, and learning any more Braille was not appealing at the time; I already was learning and using two versions of the code.  The other issue with using music Braille is it of course requires the use of one's hands, but so does playing any musical instrument, so following along with music Braille during band class would prove to be way too cumbersome. (I'm not downplaying the importance of music Braille; but it does have its limitations). My solution to learning to play the drums as well as learning to play with the school band had two major parts. 

1. I would record the school band during practice and then take the recordings home and practice after school. I didn't have much for recording options; I used a four track tape recorder that looked like it had just came from a museum of vintage technology  and a stack of four track tapes. The recordings weren't the greatest, but honestly that four track recorder did a pretty good job of recording 30 middle school kids in band class. Each day   I would lug my tape recorder home, along with the freshly recorded band rehearsal and practice. "It was like Jake had the entire school band in his bedroom," my Mother used to say. I would drum along on my practice pad, memorizing not only my part on the drums, but the way the rest of the band sounded. I quickly learned and still believe that if you know how to play your chosen instrument and you know how to actively listen the music itself will provide audible landmarks for you to follow. The music will tell you when and where to play, it will tell you how loud or soft to play and it will tell you how to play. It is an organic process obtained using  the resources of the human body and mind.  

2. During band practice I would follow the drumming patterns of the other drummers, who were of course  reading the sheet music. This, in my opinion worked pretty well. Anybody from a single musician to an entire band will tell you rehearsal often consists of playing each section of the music several times to build knowledge and mastery. This gave me more opportunities to memorize my parts. I also learned how to count measures. I won't delve too deeply into musical theory here, but I'll give you an idea of how I learned to count in music. First understand that depending on the type of music will depend on how you count its measures . Lets use the standard 4-4 time signature. Each measure consists of four beats (quarter notes), and a phrase has four measures. Play a quarter note twice as fast in  four beats and you have eighth notes. My job was to learn to count measures and to understand quarter notes, eighth notes, sixteenth notes, ETC. 

Today I still employ these simple, but effective techniques  to learn music. 

At age 12 my parents gave me a drum set for Christmas; still one of the top ten best Christmas gifts ever. The set was old and needed some work, but that didn't stop me from putting it to good use.  As a result of been given a vintage drum set I learned over the course of my high school career one of the most important things that many drummers fail to learn; how a drum works. Simple right? You whack it with a big stick and it makes a big bang! Well, sort of. Drums, like any other instrument require tuning and upkeep, and my vintage set was happy to provide both. 

Throughout junior high and high school I continued playing in the school band. Personally I felt like I received a wonderful musical education, which says a lot about the music director, the school and the volunteers who did anything from help raise money to driving the equipment bus when we traveled.  Because our school was so small (150 students in grades 7-12) band class consisted of  the marching, concert and pep bands. My class mates and I learned a wide variety of music. But with this awesome education came many challenges. I was a pretty good drummer  (in my opinion), and I learned to play differently from the other drummers; so what? But that didn't stop a couple of them from picking on me for it. I was often accused of employing poor technique, playing my part completely wrong and simply not good enough for this "hard core, in the middle of nowhere,  tiny school band." As a result of my alternative techniques to learning and playing the drums I was intentionally given parts that had no significance, or simply not given a part at all. But, I didn't quit, and I didn't tattle on the other drummers who were technically employing acts of discrimination against me. I kept the verbal confrontations over who played what and why quiet and I did my best to avoid the occasional "accidental thump on the head," by a fellow drummer's drumstick. Instead I took drumming seriously and learned my parts of several drumming positions to a tee. My mentality was if I can't read the sheet music and the other drummers are going to discriminate against me, I'll beat them at their own game and learn several parts. Then I'll walk into band class, pick up my drum sticks and stand up straight and play the part of my choosing. You can imagine the conflict this caused. There were several times where I was literally shoved aside by another drummer, but I still kept playing the drum, so both of us were playing on the same drum at the same time. I wasn't going to be shoved aside, and come hell or high water I was going to play the part and sound good doing it, and in the end even the meanest of the drummers knew that you can't argue with skill, no matter how it's obtained. However, with all of the negativity there was twice as much positivity. I taught many of my underclassman how to play and how to play well, which expanded my circle of friends, I slowly worked my way up in the drumming ranks and nothing can replace the positive feeling of finishing a performance, slightly under stress, but bang on time and perfectly done. Those were the moments I lived for.  

Since graduating high school several years ago the demands for my drumming have slowed down considerably. This is not a lack of interest by any means, but rather the costs of growing up. I occasionally play with friends, I've played in a community college pep band a couple years in a row and every now and again I get asked to play with a local group. That was then and this is now. Since re-locating and enrolling at university I have started researching the musical groups on campus. My plan is to try and join the marching band. I've never joined a college level marching band, but I look forward to the challenge.   before This has been a goal of mine for many years. I used to listen to the marching bands and more specifically the drum lines of the local universities near my home town. They always sounded so cool. I was always impressed by the number of people all working together to produce some amazing musical productions. 

No matter how much or little I play with musical groups, I always practice drumming. My drum set is one of my priced possessions. My set will go with me anywhere, even if their isn't enough space to set it up. 

The moral of the story? If you have a passion for something, don't let anybody or anything stan in your way. It is your passion and nobody should ever take it from you. I will never give up drumming; I worked hard for it, and in a way it's who I am, apart of my identity, an extension of my personality. It's like somebody who owns a custom car, they build it how they see it. 

Striking Out: how you re-locate non visually

I had livd in the Portland, Oregon Metro area for several years. I completed my Associates Degree, I had worked in several professional rolls, made some nice friends and volunteered in the community. 

Recently it became apparent that even with my active lifestyle there was something missing. It took me two years to find out what it was. So what was missing in my life? The pursuit of a Bachelors degree. During those two years of searching I had applied to several state universities, brainstormed potential degrees and I even returned to community college in an attempt to complete prerequisite coursework for a near by, out-of-state university. But even with all of this effort, painstaking research, homework and a job I realized that this was not a good fit for me. I was disoriented by life and didn't know where to turn. Then, a somewhat radical plan began to form inside my head. Forged partly by necessity and partly by the goal of obtaining a bachelors degree. This plan would require me to give up my job, leave  my friends and volunteer opportunities and move a crossed the state to a completely new city. At first the plan was just that, a radical plan. Why the hell would I give up all that just to go to school? Because I realized that school would be a long run investment in my future. I applied some simple concepts that I had learned in my Economics classes that I took in community college. 

By early summer 2013 i knew that I had to make a plan and put it into action; no more sitting around saying "I'm not sure what I'll do." So I yet again applied to another state university that had my desired degree and spent the summer preparing to move. I knew very little about the city where I would be re-locating to and I wasn't even sure if this plan was going to work. Still, I pushed forward with it; I was going all in, boom or bust, giving up everything and risking it all to get a quality college education.  I signed a lease on an apartment that I hadn't ever been to, and I agreed to share the three bedroom unit with two other guys who I didn't know. Why did I take on such a challenge with so many unknowns? Why not! Honestly it felt right in my gut; we should all listen to our gut more often. haha My mentality here was I needed to do something and at this point all other attempts of gaining higher education had failed. I learned after moving that sometimes in life one must give up something in order to get something else (another Economics concept; opportunity cost). 

The end of august came and I found myself packing up all of my belongings, selling my furniture, resigning from my job, leaving my volunteer opportunities and saying goodbye to friends and co-workers. I piled everything I had in the back of a large pickup truck and struck out into the unknown. It was like leaving the safety of a boat harbor and heading out into uncharted waters. Looking back, I think the physical moving of possessions was the easiest part of the entire move. 

But now what? All of my things are packed in boxes and piled in my new bedroom, I've met my new room mates, who appear to be nice and I'm in a small city where I don't even know where the grocery store is. The reality of the learning curve had just hit me like a ton of bricks. Not knowing where anything is, including the front entrance to my new apartment complex was a   stark contrast from the familiar Portland, OR Metro Area. A lot of visually impaired people would have been content to wait for a certified travel teacher (called an  orientation and Mobility Instructor) hired by the state to come and show a visually impaired person where everything is. However, I'm not like most people in this position. Armed with my guide dog, Angelina, my trusty old I Phone 3GS (laugh if you like; but my 3GS is a trouper, and besides re-use, reduce and recycle,) and the addresses of the nearest grocery store, I was off. You may be asking yourself "how did you find the entrance to your apartment complex that you mentioned not knowing earlier?" Simple, I walked out into the large parking lot that surrounds  the complex and waited for the first car to drive by. Then, Angelina and I sprang into action and began walking at a heart-pumping three and a half miles an hour. I followed the sound of the car in front of us and three minutes later, Angelina and I found the entrance.  Success! From there I followed the directions my GPS application was giving me, and when I got close to what I thought mite be the grocery store I began walking into businesses and asking "is this the grocery store?" I learned that on the way to the grocery store, there is a Jimmy John's, local coffee shop and a mechanic's garage. So after finding the grocery store it was double success, I now knew the location of four businesses in my new city. I also got an idea of how helpful people choose to be (this varies from city to city and region to region).   

I spent the next two weeks getting to required destinations in the same fashion. But then it was time to learn how to get around my college campus. Unlike local businesses, most college campus buildings do not have address numbers, so a GPS is pretty much useless. I had to throw my pride aside and get help from a local Orientation and Mobility Instructor who showed me the locations of my classes, student support services and the student union building. From there, I was back on my own and with orientation week fast approaching I needed a plan and fast! I went back to basics and showed up to orientation each day with a list of campus building names and room numbers written down on my I Phone and simply started asking other students and faculty. This was the best thing I could have ever done in this situation, because I met so many cool and interesting people. Sure they thought they were helping a poor blind guy get somewhere, but then understood that I was in the same situation that they were in; unsure on a new college campus. Everybody I met was extremely helpful, nice and did not appear to show signs of nervousness about helping somebody who happens to be blind. Perhaps it goes with the territory, or perhaps people that week began to realize that we are all the same in this situation. I knew that I had made the right decision in picking my school and I had made the right decision to strike out on this adventure. 

About the Author

about me: 

Hi, my name is Jake, and I happen to be visually impaired. Don't let the words "visually impaired," fool you. I'm just like everybody else, and I hope the following blog posts will  prove that.  . I'm the oldest of three and was raised like any  sighted child. Growing up I was expected to pull my own weight and to be a contributing member of society. I had a supportive family, I had friends in school, and I was like anybody else as far as they were concerned. I grew up in a rural Eastern Washington State town and relied on the support from my family and small K-12 school's teachers and support staff to give me a good public school education. Now, several years later, I have successfully worked in several types of professional roles, and am in the process of completing my college education. 

Philosophy:  

I have a can-do attitude, I don't give up and I'm not a quitter. I believe in taking calculated risks, and pushing myself forward. The sky is the limit and I apply myself to go farther, aim higher and do all that I can do, and sometimes that's not enough, so I push harder. I try to be as optimistic  as possible and I take pride in a job well done. I view my visual impairment not as a lost cause, but rather as  a way of life. I am independent and interdependent (just like the rest of the world). Like anybody else I had and still do have challenges, but challenges to me are a good thing. They stimulate the body and mind. They are also what makes this blog worth writing.  I was told at a young age by my Mother "you don't have what the rest of us have; eyesight, so sometimes you are going to have to work twice as hard as your peers to accomplish the same goal." This is the very core of my philosophy. Yes, at times life is challenging and I do have to work twice as hard as others to accomplish the same things, but that's no reason not to do it; you get used to this concept after a while. It's simply mind over matter, and that's something we all have to practice. 

About This Blog: 

Honestly, I'm not your average blind guy; I'm just the opposite. My adventures often times start where the safety of the sidewalk ends, and the unknown begins. It's all about adaptations, knowing one's own strengths and weaknesses and having an open mind. In this awesome world of inclusion, I have to be part crazy, part fearless and part smart, but I wouldn't have it any other way. The following blog posts will hopefully give a detailed account of the adventures of not such an average blind person. So ignore the stereotypes you may have learned from society and rid your mind of the terrible Hollywood images of blind people on TV, and hang on!